I want to live in a country house.
the smell of hay will embrace me
the smell of the grass upon the ground will comfort me
and when it rains i'll go outside
and feel the droplets of water on my face
A golden retiever will be my companion
A hot cup of fresh coffee will mark the start of my day
I will read a book
I will listen to music until dawn
I will think about what could have been
but right before I close my eyes
I'll be happy.
and content.

By myself but not alone.
Happy to go solo.

a smooch on the cheek
a bite on the lip
the warmth of your tongue
your eyes I can't resist.

Your eyes are talking
your hands are moving
my body is warm
my heart is beating

You’re a metaphor
For everything I have ever wanted
But never had

She is the trying.  
Her hands are working
Her mind is toiling.
Her heart is so full of all the good things.

All she wants is to be loved,
to be accepted and to be heard.
She does not plan to get rich quick.
She just needs to be appreciated
for all that she did.

Unfortunately for her,
a "thank you" is expensive
the price tag says "her sanity"
She is torn, at the brink
of losing her mind
if only she could get that coveted "thanks"

All her life she lived a lie.
She thought if she didn't cry
they will smile.

All she wanted was a friend.
To be happy and content.
To be seen and heard,
To be cared for and not to be hurt.

Unfortunately for her,
this sad little miss.
even to her own family
all she does are amiss.

She wonders what she did wrong
each day of her life
She wants it to end so bad
but she fails at each try.

Monday.
Tuesday.
All the way to Sunday.

Work.
Work.
and no play.

Do this. Do that.
Then repeat.

Eat.Work.
then try to sleep.

Race against time.
Race against others.
Race against the pace
of the world's front runners.

You ****.
You're slow.
You're not good enough.

Look at him.
Look at her.
Look around you.
You're alone.

You'll die sad.
You'll die mad.
It's a crazy world, true that.

If you won't get a husband
you'll die an old hag.

There are only two things that I want to say to you:
Number One.
I hate you.
Number Two.
All the love I used to think I had for you are all gone.

Don’t hold back

Dear you,
maybe I should write you a letter.
A long, long letter.
You know, to get you out of my system.

Dear you,
I cannot express how much I miss you.
I ache a lot just by thinking of you.
Our relationship wasn’t perfect
But every second I spent loving you
Was all worth it.

Dear you,
She fills your life now.
You say she loves you more than I ever could
Babe, maybe you’re right.
Or maybe you just chose to open your heart to her and not to me.

But it’s okay.
I just want you to know that I did my best for you
I want you to know that I fought hard for you.
Hard.

Dear you,
I’m sorry if all I wanted was to be loved back.
I must have been so selfish.
I realized that it’s not enough that I love.
I should learn to realize when the person I love does not want my love.

Dear you,
Thank you for at least thinking that I’m your safe space.
Know that I will always be here for you.
I hope you fight all the demons
That haunt you at night
And even I’m not there,
I hope that you find peace
Wherever you are.

I miss you terribly
I loved you like crazy.

I just want you to be happy.

You've been treating me like a joke.
Yet like a joke, I can make you laugh
and that's good enough for me.

That split-second of attention,
That drop of tear,
That small chuckle at the end of a call.
Those small things that meant nothing to you
Mean all the world to me.

You wait for me to build you up
When she knocks you down.
You talk to me to feel better
Knowing that there is someone in the world
more miserable than you.

All I want is to hear your voice.
All I want is to know your fears.
All I want is to make you happy.
But if your happiness means pain to me,
then that's still good enough for me.

At the end of the day I tried
even when there's no use in trying.
I loved
Even when you stopped receiving.
I cared
Even when you didn't.

I just wish you would notice me
and know that I did everything
that I could have done
to save you.

And all I want
Is for you to notice me.

This is crazy.
Very. very. crazy.

I am here in front of a universe we created
you and I.
Nobody else.

I am soaking in this virtual reality
that knows no bounds
and respects no timezones.

I wake up everyday
looking forward to talk to you
and I sleep at night
seeing you in my dreams.

Here I am again
In a cycle of guessing game
"He loves me. He loves me not" I say
as I rip a flower apart
petal by petal
until it is no more.

I do this
not because I want to
but because I can.

It's the closest thing I have
to an answer.
I ask a flower
every now and then.
I pray for answers
but no one ever responds.

He loves me. He loves me not.
Over and over
like a religious mantra
like an entrancing spell
like a prayer
like a song
like a sonata in a silent night

I reach the last few petals.
My words slur.
My breath wastes away.
I close my eyes.
And then
Slowly, I yank the petals one by one.

"He loves me."
"He loves me not."
"He loves me."
"He loves me not."
"He loves me."
I smile.

But I realized,
There is one last petal left hanging,
almost wilted.
I know what it means.

"He loves me not."
I bow my head
as if to say a prayer

I close my eyes.
I breathe
I smell what's left of the flower

A fragile stem
Weak leaves
Hard thorns.

I let go.

I am running out of reasons
All the reason to write
I am losing all the memories
that keep me up at night

Have I moved on?
Did I let go?
Or
Did time simply pass?

I don't know.

I don't think of you as often
In fact, I don't think of anyone at all.
I don't see you in my dreams
No, I don't dream anymore.

I say "I love you"
more often than I pray
It saddens me that I say it
with no address or a name.

I whisper it to the wind
"I love you."
A phrase so familiar
yet so far from the truth.

I don't know why I say it.
I have no one to say it to.
I'm overwhelmed at how long it has been
Someone said it to me too.

Love has been so foreign
to this troubled heart
In the open it is calm
truth is, it's tearing me apart

I'm losing all the memories
that keep me up at night.
Even in my dreams,
anyone is out of sight.

I thought I have moved on.
In fact, I really have.
It's just that I miss the feeling
of having someone to ache for.

I miss having all the reasons
All the reasons in the world.
I miss saying "I love you."
As much as I miss hearing these words.

I don't cry myself to sleep.
I want to, but I cannot cry
I don't have any reason
To feel so sad at night.

I used to remember how we were
Before I go to sleep
I used to write you letters
Then after, I delete.

Now I don't have the reasons
to write to you at all.
Cause now I can't remember
how we were before.

I wish I could remember
How your lips felt on my skin
But even that I can't remember
I'm losing everything.

At least I can hold on to
our pictures from the past
Where all I see are strangers
so in love.

I wish I can remember
how your gaze felt.
Like how you looked at me
in the picture that I kept.

Now when I look at us,
And all the photos that I kept,
I feel nothing.
None at all.

I am so scared of this phase.
This phase after moving on.
It's even more heartbreaking
than any break-up song.

I thought I couldn't get
any lonelier than when you left
I did not know that indifference
Makes all the difference.

"I love you."
"I miss you."
"I care for you."
I don't know you.

You.
Are a condescending,
lying,
cheating,
*******.

And
I wish I will never
ever
end up
anywhere close
to who you are

You
think you deserve
all the love in the world
because you did
a little good.

You don't.

It's not
enough that you
give me something
to justify the way
you take all
that is mine.

You
are my father.
but to me,
you are nothing.

You
lost your worth
the day you did not choose me
you did not choose us.

You
chose to throw
twenty-five years away
for a woman
you met on the street
on Sunday.

I
hate you.
I don't know
how you wake up
in the morning
kissing my mother
in the cheek.
When you know
by dark
you kiss another woman's
lips.

You
are worse than Judah
who killed himself
after betraying Jesus.

I
caught you.
but you chose
to be better
at hiding.

I hope you die.

You don't deserve
to be loved.

*******,
dad.

The night is cold
But my tea is still hot
The sheets are soft
My toes are frozen

The world outside
Is buzzing around
But I'm right here
Lying in bed

With a good book
resting in my palms
And the rustling leaves
calling my name.

I take a sip from my cup
One less page to read for the night
I bury myself under the sheets
and finally, I sleep in peace.

My utter frustration
lies with you,

the child I will never have...

You may come to life,
But I bet you will not.

Either way,
I would like you to understand why
So you won't have to ask me
haunt me
coerce me
force me
hurt me
lambast me.

I want you to understand.
I am not having you,
not because I don't love you.

I actually am not having you
because I do.

You see, honey.
I can never be a mother.
I want to be
but I just can't.

I cannot put you through
the same emotional turmoil
that made me decide
not to have you in the first place.

I cannot bear the idea
of raising you in the wrong way
because I have no idea what the right way is.

I cannot let you suffer
the same wounds that I had
as I tried to survive this life.

I cannot let you live.

I cannot
because if I do,
you would hate me so much
you won't even let me lick your wounds
the wounds I would have probably given you.

So honey,
I hope you understand.
I love you too much to let you go through me.
I am a wreck and I know it.

I am also sorry.
Sorry for not giving you a chance.
to live.
to breathe.
to run.
to play.

to live.

Your mommy,
your nonexistent mommy,
has gone so much pain,
heard so much bad words
it's all overflowing
from her mouth.

And honey,
she doesn't wanna let you hear them.
she will never let you hear them.

Don't worry, my baby.
No matter how much I wish to have you here.
I'll fight it.

To save you.
From me.

Because I love you.

How can you write about love
if you've never loved before?

How can you write about pain
if you've never been bruised?

Maybe real pain is better than
loneliness.

Maybe real wounds are better than
fake burns and made-up stories
of a love you never had.

To feel or not to feel?
is a question I ask myself everyday.

Am I a ghost in disguise,
or am I reality in a made up world?

I can touch, but do I feel?
I can look, but do I see?
I can hear, but do I listen?

Am I?

She stares at me. Blankly. Coldly. And I wish I did not know what she sees. I wish I could not but it is written all over her face.

I wish I had not caused her pain because it’s painful for me to know at a glance that she is in pain. Because of me.

I wish I had known that she was just there to show her love. A love that I have neglected for so long. I wish I could go back in time and tell her how much I have appreciated her all through these years. I wish I could tell her what life is like with the possibility of losing her.

I wish she already knows but she does not because I never care to show. I wish she knows I love her even when I hate her. I wish she knows, but she does not because I never care to show.

I know she understands because if had not she would not wake up in the morning to tell me to clean the house because she was too tired last night laundering my clothes, my underwear, and yet she has to wake up the next morning to cook my food.

I wish I were not so selfish. I wish I saw how she would work herself to her bones despite her brittle age, just so as I can “study” for an upcoming quiz. I wish I saw how she juggled her way through all the chores. I wish I knew her like she knew me.

I wish I gave attention to her like she gave attention to me. I wish I showered her with so much encouraging words the way she has showed me with words of praise at my mediocrity. I wish I could. I wish I did. I wish I showed her how much I am proud of her the way she prays for me and tells me how proud she is for my broken achievements.

I wish I could paint a beautiful canvass of “perceived reality” in her face, so that she will only see beauty and not the pain. I wish I could offer my arms to her when she needed me the most. I wish I had. I wish I can.

I come home tired from my own business without even thinking what she has gone through, or how many times has she cried. I wish I could hug her like I have always had when I was a little girl who saw her as my world, my hero, my only shelter. I wish I could just go back in time and erase all the pain I have caused her.

I wish I did not know what her mannerisms meant, but sadly, we have been together too long that I would know what she does when a strand of hair falls down her face. She does not tuck it to her ear, or plays with it with her fingers. She can stand leaving the hair alone dangling beneath her cheek.

She’s contented with being with me for a couple of hours, even if it would be so tiring for her. She would buy me clothes, and I got used to the custom of rejecting what she buys because I was too busy thinking of me, myself and I. She thinks of me when I don’t think of her. She prays for me, even when I do not pray. She’s concerned for me even when I do not give **** about her stuff. She looks at me like I’m a fragile china.

And it’s sad how I have disregarded her all these years… It’s sad how I have let her be old and in pain. I have grown twenty years ripe and still I act like the 2 year old me.  I w ish I could, I wish I can. I wish I could show my love for my mom.